Reflection
by TheWitchBaby
Summary: The mirror, a reflection of himself in one whole image. Then a pounding of his hands on the glass, such small hands that you never really think could destroy anything, and its gone. Just like that. Angsty one-shot. Implied noncon. Some mentions of yaoi.


Reflection

By: Witch Baby

_**A/N:**__ Nothing but angst. Pure dark thoughts and emo-ness. Set soon after the first volume... I think?_

_"Backwards into the future,_

_Now you're making up for lost time_

_I hide under the shadow and try to hide my name_

_Eyes that will question and this is what I mean_

_I look back into the mirror,_

_But still don't see me_

_Everything's gone backwards,_

_Nothing's what it seems_

_I awake from my nightmares_

_Smash the mirror, smash the dreams..."_

_'Backwards' by: Apartment 26_

Ayase's mouth tasted sour as the bile continued to rise, emptying what little he had eaten from that morning. His whole body trembled as he continued to heave into the toilet. He couldn't remember feeling so sick before. Everything just felt sick.

Even with everything gone, he continued to dry heave, shuddering with every roll and twist in his gut. Kneeling on the floor, he tried to focus on the cool tile beneath his knees, trying to take his mind off the nausea. It seemed to work for the moment, the cold seeping into his skin and calming his frayed nerves. "Damn..." he muttered, not one to curse but feeling like this time, this situation, he needed it.

He felt another wave of sickness, but swallowed it down. His throat burned, his eyes stung, and his back and thighs were throbbing, and not just from kneeling on the bathroom floor for the past half hour. He was glad Kanou wasn't home, having to go into work early for some reason. He never allowed himself to get sick like this when Kanou was around. He didn't want to see the worried expression in those dark eyes. It made him feel things, things he wasn't ready to face just yet.

Picking himself up off the floor, Ayase turned on the facet, splashing cool water onto his face. He let it drip down his cheek, sliding down the pale column of his neck. He rinsed his mouth out, grimacing at the rancid after taste. Sighing tiredly, he lifted his head, meeting the watery blue eyes of his own reflection.

_'Disgusting.'_ he thought, scowling. His hair was a mess, hanging in dirty, limp strands around his face. His skin, already a startling pale, now looked a deathly white. It made the bruises and love-bites all the more apparent. His eyes traced over the marks on his neck, trailing even lower to where they disappeared under the neckline of the sleeping shirt he was wearing. He knew how far down they went, the memory of Kanou's mouth and hands on him, so fresh in his mind he could almost feel them being made. He could hear Kanou's whispered dirty words in his ear, making him shiver. Remember the feeling of being held down, of fingers exploring places he never wanted to think about, of something hot and then pain and then pleasure and then-

Ayase collapsed by the toilet again, retching into the bowl. He was shaking and his stomach wouldn't stop rolling and the tears where falling now and-

"Oh gods please just make it stop!" he sobbed, cradling his head in his hands while he wept.

This wasn't what he wanted, more then anything he every dreamed. Or had experienced in his nightmares. As if his mother's death, and then grandmother's, wasn't enough; to then be betrayed by the only family he had left? His own flesh and blood, the people who where supposed to love and protect him, offered him to the Devil on a silver platter in order to save themselves. Ayase couldn't even begin to try and comprehend how anyone could be so heartless.

He still has nightmares. People grabbing him, dragging him away, and waking up naked on a stage. Everything is hazy in his dreams, and most of them he can't remember upon waking. But the terror is there, the horror that leaves him sweating and crying, trying his hardest not to wake Kanou with his weeping.

Kanou. And then there was Kanou.

He felt his stomach give another sickening lurch as images played behind his closed lids. Memories of the first time replaying over and over until he felt like screaming. He had been so disoriented from the drugs, and scared. Kanou had seemed so nice, someone to protect him until he could understand what was going on. And then, in an instant he... changed. Kanou's eyes had gone dark, angry. Ayase knew maybe he shouldn't have lashed out, but he had still been so frightened and unsure.

And then strong hands had grabbed him.

And then he had been thrown on the bed.

And then the sound of ripping fabric as his shirt was torn away.

The rest of the memories blur out at that point, and all Ayase can remember is someone screaming, only realizing later that it was him. Then the pain, and Kanou's cold whisper of _'if you don't want it to hurt so much you better behave'_. His taunting smirk and tone when he pointed out that, despite his tears, Ayase still came, he still liked it.

Ayase wraps his arms around himself, shaking his head as he begins to rock back and forth. No, he didn't like it. He couldn't have liked. It was wrong, two men together was wrong. He didn't like it. No no no no no-

"_You get excited don't you. Be honest."_

He whimpered, whispering 'no' over and over again under his breath. He wondered again, how cruel people could be. What had he done to deserve this? He had been a good boy, a good student. He never lied or stole or cheated. He never questioned why the gods had taken away his parents, his grandmother. He never got in fights and always did his best to help others.

He must have done something horrible to be treated this way. Only bad people end up like this. Disgusting, repulsive, awful people where sold by their family, where paid for sex, where this weak.

He stood up again, so tired from crying, drained from the emotional onslaught he put himself through. A shower was in order, even though not all the hot water in the world ever made him feel clean enough. Catching his reflection ounce more, he paused, studying himself again. "Disgusting." he repeated out loud, the word echoing off the tiled walls.

He would never pay off the debt. His family would never come for him. No one would ever come for him. He would forever be under Kanou's rule. There would never be any out for him. There would never be a return to normal life.

It happened before he could even comprehend what he was doing. One moment he was staring in contempt at his reflection, and then there was pain in his palms and glass scattered all over the bathroom floor. His stunned expression was copied in a million little pieces as he stared down at the destruction he had made. Blood dripped through his fingers and, for a moment, he was mesmerized by it all.

The mirror, a reflection of himself in one whole image. And then a pounding of his hands on the glass, such small hands that you never really think could destroy anything, and its gone.

Just like that.

He doesn't register the pain in his hands, or in his feet, as he walks across the floor. He leaves a trail of blood behind him as he goes into the bedroom. Ignoring the seemingly innocent bed, he takes the medical kit from the closet and sets to work on his injuries. Mechanically, he cleans himself up.

How easy it is to destroy things, how simple it is to break. If he pressed hard enough, pushed any deeper, even strong things could shatter. Who was he, someone so weak and defenseless, to believe that he could ever survive?

By the time Kanou returns, the blood and glass had been cleared away. He is, of course, angry over the broken mirror and Ayase's injuries, but he easily accepts the lie of the blond falling in the bathroom.

That night, when Kanou pulls him into his strong arms, the blond does not protest. He lets the older male kiss and touch him, dragging small whimpers and moans from his mouth. Still, for the first time, he does not struggle. Ayase watches himself in the reflection of the dark window, and knows it's all pointless. He could smash things, he could cry or scream...

...But he would never be free...

The End

_**A/N:**__ … I'm very sorry for this. I have no idea what it is. But I found a poor little emo plot bunny playing with eyeliner in the corner of my plot bunny cage, and I just had to give it a hug. It then proceeded to attack me with black nail polish and then next thing I know I'm wiping away tears to better see the angsty mess I had typed up on my computer._

_Please review? Maybe then my plot bunny won't be sad and instead will give me great ideas for some super hot smut!_

_By the way, if you're waiting for an update for 'No Money, No Love', I AM working on it, but I'm going through some serious re-write over the next chapter and the few after so it's taking a lot of time. Plus, with working every night, all week long, sleep is more important to me most of the time. But it IS being worked on and WILL BE posted as soon as I can._

_In the mean time, I was wondering if any of my lovely reviews would mind sending me some story requests. If you've got an idea, I'd love to hear it! I need time to fill when I get frustrated and stare at my computer screen in sadness..._

_~Witch Baby_


End file.
